Oops
by Nikkette
Summary: Carl accidentally breaks one of Daryl's most prized possessions, and although Carol tries to help him cover his tracks, he still has to deal with the consequences of screwing with Dixon property. Takes place at the farm during season 2. Humorous drama with hints of Caryl. Oneshot.


**A/N: If you can think of a better title, I would _love_ to hear.**

**Just something I was able to come up with while brainstorming late one night. I thought it would be hilarious for Carl to ruin something of Daryl's (I'm surprised he didn't chew him out for losing his gun) and so I made this.**

**Reading time: 9 mins.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

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><p>Oops~<p>

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><p>Carl sat atop Daryl's motorcycle, pretending he was speeding down an empty highway with the wind at his back, walkers far from sight.<p>

He hadn't _planned_ on touching Daryl's bike - his mom had told him to go get him because they needed him for something. But when he went to look, he wasn't there. He figured he must have been out hunting or killing walkers.

_Normally_, he would have just walked away and got back to his parents. But he was bored, and there wasn't much to do, and that bike looked _pretty freaking awesome_.

And so, here he was, sitting in the seat of a motorcycle that belonged to someone he hardly knew, his feet not even able to reach halfway to the ground, pretending _he_ was the badass.

"_Vrrrrrroooooom_, vroooom..." Carl made faux-engine sounds as he gripped the handlebars, staring out into the rows of open fields as he pretended to steer clear past a herd of-

"Woah!"

Before he could even react properly, the kickstand suddenly gave out from under him and he fell over, his leg crushed beneath the bike.

Yeah.

Definitely _not_ a part of his fantasy.

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><p>Carol walked out of the farmhouse, squinting her eyes in the evening sun as she made her way to the RV.<p>

It was a lovely day, with the heat nice and mild.

No sight of walkers.

No tragic incidents-

"Help!"

She paused, whirling around in search of the sound but finding nothing.

"_Help!_" They said again.

Carol looked towards Daryl's campsite, sure that the voice had come from there.

Wasting no time, she moved her legs in an ever-quickening pace and hot-footed it over there to see what was wrong.

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><p>"<em>Help!<em>" Carl called again, trying in vain to move the fallen piece of machinery off his leg.

Just then, he saw Carol.

"_Carl?!_" She shrieked, eyes wide. "What are you _doing?!_"

"Please help me!" He pleaded, clutching at his trapped leg as he reached out to her.

Carol moved quickly on her feet, kneeling down to reach him.

Bracing herself, she placed her hands beneath the motorcycle and prepared to lift.

"Okay. Now I'm going to _lift_ this off of you, so _don't_ move. Okay?"

He nodded insistently, and he waited as she locked her knees and lifted the bike just enough for him to scramble free.

Carol dropped the heavy hunk of metal, the sound loud and cantankerous, and Carl moved around it to join her side as she dusted off her hands.

She looked down at him, voice caring but stern. "Mind telling me what you were doing with Daryl's bike?"

His eyes widened. "_Please_ don't tell Daryl!" He cried, frantic. "Please don't tell him! _Please!_ I'll do _anything_-"

She knit her eyebrows and held up a hand, silencing him. "Woah, there! Hold on! You don't have to worry, I'm not gonna tell him anything."

"Tell me _what?_"

Both of their eyes widened as they turned to look behind them, seeing a _very_ unhappy Daryl.

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><p>Carol and Carl simultaneously moved to try and cover the bike from view, but it didn't work for more than a second as the hunter's eyes flicked to her, to him, and finally to his motorcycle.<p>

"...What the _HELL!_" He yelled, pushing past them to look at the fallen vehicle.

Daryl bent down and heaved the bike up to rest back on its side, putting the kickstand back in place-

"Ya _broke_ the goddamn _mirror!_" He chastised, getting angrier by the second as he bent down to pick up the side view mirror.

He turned to Carl. "What the _hell_ were you _doin'?!_ Thought ya could just take my bike fer a _joyride_ while I was away?! _Huh?!_"

Carl began to tear up, and Carol moved to push him protectively behind her.

"Daryl, that's enough."

"The _hell_ it _is!_" He spat, swinging his arm angrily. "The kid damaged my _property!_ I ain't about to just_ let _that_ slide!_"

She stood her ground. "Well it's what you're gonna _have_ to do, because it's over and done and there's nothing you can do to change it."

Daryl stalked up to her, coming to stand only an inch away as he glowered down at her, shoulders heaving with every livid breath he took.

He was trying to intimidate her, to get her to back down so he could tear into Carl.

Which was _exactly_ why she wasn't going to.

Carol crossed her arms defiantly and stared up at him, matching his death glare with her stubbornness.

Carl watched on timidly from his place behind Carol, waiting to see what was going to happen.

Daryl stared at her for a good 30 seconds straight, not blinking or breaking his _sledgehammer-_of-a-gaze, and Carl was glad that it was Carol on the receiving end of it and not him.

After what felt like a _year_, the seething man stepped back, and both he and Carol let out breaths of relief.

"_Fine_," Daryl relinquished, the word leaving his mouth like acid. "But if I see his _face_ around _anything_ o' mine again, you'll _both_ be sorry."

Carol nodded, and turning her head slightly towards Carl, said, "Better get back to your parents. I'm sure they'll be looking for you."

Nodding even though she couldn't see it, he turned and ran back towards the farmhouse.

He didn't need to be told twice.

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><p>Daryl knelt down by his broken motorcycle, looking it over for any other signs of damage, and Carol crossed her arms and walked over to him.<p>

"You know, you didn't have to be so hard on him. It was an accident."

His head bobbed with a scoff. "_Hmph_. Yeah, and I s'pose he just 'accidentally' tripped and sat his little ass in my _seat_ too, huh?"

She closed her eyes, sighed. "He's just a kid, Daryl."

He stood up, turning around to face her. "'Just kids' turn into 'just adults' who end up as 'just damn walkers' if they ain't careful. Boy needs to know his place. Can't just be _runnin_' around wherever he damn well pleases."

"Why not? You do." She pointed out.

He pursed his lips. "...It ain't the same."

"And why not?" She challenged. "Because you're not some 'dumb kid' who doesn't know the difference between life and death? Because _you_ don't mess things up every now and then? Because you're _perfect_ and without _fault?_"

He stared at her, long and hard, obviously trying to desperately formulate some kind of reasonable point or valid argument.

.

.

.

"...DAMMIT, woman! You want me to leave the kid alone? FINE! Just don't come _cryin'_ to me when he ends up as _walker_ bait!"

He swung his arm out in anger before spinning on his heel and turning back to his bike, and Carol smiled softly at the back of his head.

He hadn't really come out and said it, but in Daryl-speak it roughly translated to: _I'm really pissed that he ruined my motorcycle, but I won't chew him out for it if you don't want me to because I care about you and the kid and I don't want him to die._

Or something like that.

That was how she was going to take it.

Carol turned to go back to the farmhouse, seeing Carl with Lori and Rick in the distance.

Feeling a little big-headed over her small victory, she turned her head to call over her shoulder.

"Thanks, Pookie."

"_What_ did you just say?"

She stifled a smile and picked up her pace.

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><p><strong>AN: Does anybody else notice that Daryl/Reedus does that whenever he's angry? Swings his arm out like that? Yes? No? Well he does. And it's not just in The Walking Dead either. I noticed it in The Boondock Saints too. Interesting, the little idiosyncrasies that carry over into actors' other works, no? **

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this. I had meant for it to be shorter, but oh well.**

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**'Til next time!**


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